Keith Levenberg
Keith Levenberg
I have repeatedly lamented here my failure to find any wine that comes anywhere near to filling the Clos Roche Blanche Cabernet-shaped hole in my life, and I know I am not alone. To be perfectly honest, even the post-Cabernet Pifs weren't an ideal substitute, but at least they still had the CRB magic. For awhile I thought Fosse-Seche Eolithe might do the job but the more I drank it the more clearly it emerged that it was its own thing, and pretty different besides.
The minimum qualifications to fill this position are:
- Guzzleability. You can throw back a bottle with no effort, and probably not even get drunk.
- Thirstquenchingness. Somewhat related to guzzleability, but connotes not merely an ease of drinking but a juiciness sufficiently refreshing that you can drink it at the beach.
- Luminosity. The fruit tastes vinified from neon and even the hue of it in the glass looks like it would function serviceably as a flashlight if you were unfortunate enough to be trapped in a cave but fortunate enough to have brought wine.
- Bite. My mental image of this is expressed in the image of the Japanese guy who used to kick off each episode of the old Iron Chef show by biting into a raw bell pepper with a wild grin. There is an aspect of this related to spicy flavors teetering on the cutting edge of ripe, and an aspect related to pure structure.
Upon reflection, the fact that the wine was made from cabernet grapes or an area we'd call a cool climate were more incidental to the personality than I assumed. So I wasted more time than necessary looking for something to fill the role in the Loire Valley.
The point of this post, of course, is that I finally did manage to find something that scratches the itch. I had actually reached this conclusion some time ago but did not speak up for reasons somewhat akin to the old chestnut about how extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, and the 2 or 3 bottles I had do not an extraordinary volume make. Nonetheless, I learned by way of my inbox that the next vintage of it, the 2018, will be offered next week, so I offer as a public service announcement to those who might be inclined to let it pass by to consider
Sandlands Contra Costa Red Table Wine
My note on the 2017 from last year:
2017 Sandlands Red Table Wine Contra Costa County Red Blend
Options3/23/2019 - I LIKE THIS WINE: 95 points (Edit)
65% carignane and 35% mataro from 1920s vines. This is just about the perfect country wine - in an ideal world, this is what every Cotes du Rhone would taste like. It has a similar heartiness, but so much more clarity. It combines an almost Beaujolais-like energy and wild-berry zing with a darker, denser base of fruit but not so dense as to weigh it down, and a gauze of tannin just rustic enough to give it some chew but not so much as to make it harsh or edgy. The drinkability factor is off the charts; you can absolutely guzzle this. Open it with a crusty baguette, runny cheese, and cured meat and be happy.
Oddly enough a pure carignane from the prior release wasn't nearly as good, although I did adore a cinsault, which had some of the same qualities as this in the guzzleability, bite, and spice department but paler fruit, nothing one would call luminous. I know this is not breaking news to those who have a longer history with this winery than I do, but there is some seriously fun wine coming out from these guys.
The minimum qualifications to fill this position are:
- Guzzleability. You can throw back a bottle with no effort, and probably not even get drunk.
- Thirstquenchingness. Somewhat related to guzzleability, but connotes not merely an ease of drinking but a juiciness sufficiently refreshing that you can drink it at the beach.
- Luminosity. The fruit tastes vinified from neon and even the hue of it in the glass looks like it would function serviceably as a flashlight if you were unfortunate enough to be trapped in a cave but fortunate enough to have brought wine.
- Bite. My mental image of this is expressed in the image of the Japanese guy who used to kick off each episode of the old Iron Chef show by biting into a raw bell pepper with a wild grin. There is an aspect of this related to spicy flavors teetering on the cutting edge of ripe, and an aspect related to pure structure.
Upon reflection, the fact that the wine was made from cabernet grapes or an area we'd call a cool climate were more incidental to the personality than I assumed. So I wasted more time than necessary looking for something to fill the role in the Loire Valley.
The point of this post, of course, is that I finally did manage to find something that scratches the itch. I had actually reached this conclusion some time ago but did not speak up for reasons somewhat akin to the old chestnut about how extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, and the 2 or 3 bottles I had do not an extraordinary volume make. Nonetheless, I learned by way of my inbox that the next vintage of it, the 2018, will be offered next week, so I offer as a public service announcement to those who might be inclined to let it pass by to consider
Sandlands Contra Costa Red Table Wine
My note on the 2017 from last year:
2017 Sandlands Red Table Wine Contra Costa County Red Blend
Options3/23/2019 - I LIKE THIS WINE: 95 points (Edit)
65% carignane and 35% mataro from 1920s vines. This is just about the perfect country wine - in an ideal world, this is what every Cotes du Rhone would taste like. It has a similar heartiness, but so much more clarity. It combines an almost Beaujolais-like energy and wild-berry zing with a darker, denser base of fruit but not so dense as to weigh it down, and a gauze of tannin just rustic enough to give it some chew but not so much as to make it harsh or edgy. The drinkability factor is off the charts; you can absolutely guzzle this. Open it with a crusty baguette, runny cheese, and cured meat and be happy.
Oddly enough a pure carignane from the prior release wasn't nearly as good, although I did adore a cinsault, which had some of the same qualities as this in the guzzleability, bite, and spice department but paler fruit, nothing one would call luminous. I know this is not breaking news to those who have a longer history with this winery than I do, but there is some seriously fun wine coming out from these guys.